"Spare her, Miss Hampden."
I looked up significantly and met Dr. Campbell's mock-reproachful glance, resting full upon me.
"Spare whom?" I asked, very innocently.
"Oh! you wicked critic of human frailties," he answered slowly, "whom do you think?"
I betrayed myself with an ill-suppressed smile which broadened into a genuine laugh as poor Miss Nibbs retired most awkwardly from her post, very well satisfied with herself, no doubt.
During the interval that followed, Dr. Campbell amused himself with the indulgence of a new freak. He leaned his elbow on the back of the chair in front of us, and turning his face towards me supported his head in the palm of his hand. There was a new expression on his countenance which foreboded the tantalising remark that followed:
"Do you know, Miss Hampden," he began, looking at me through his half closed eye-lids, "you are beginning to puzzle me strangely. Did any one ever tell you you are an eccentric girl?"
"Oh dear! yes! my step-mother persuaded me to that comfortable conviction long ago," I answered laughingly.
He followed up this agreeable retort with a most expressive "Ahem!" and then paused a moment before adding in a very emphatic tone:
"Well, you are a queer girl, you know."